


even with thunder, the waters are calm

by crowsnest (sunriseyoongi)



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Asrian, Fluff, M/M, Strangers to Lovers, a lil angst, alcohol and drunkennes mentioned, asra is a gemini, but things are different so it's still an au i guess, julian and his crew are more like pirate/traders?, julian is an idiot but what else is new, lots of pining, lucio is.... there, mermaid!asra, nadiaxportia in the bg being cute, pirate!julian, snuck in my apprentice too heh, still set in vesuvia, tags might change as i go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:29:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22535509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunriseyoongi/pseuds/crowsnest
Summary: His instincts tell him to run, but he’s too curious, too fascinated by what’s in front of him, like the sky and the stars are shining just for this moment. Julian wants to doubt his own imagination too, but he's heard things about mermaids, knows what they say, about their deadly ways with humans. How they can trick you, and deceive you, and how you should always be wary and never give them your name.“You’ve got something of mine, Julian Devorak.”Well, there goes that rule.(or in which Julian makes a deal with a charming mermaid and everything just kinda falls into place.)
Relationships: Asra Alnazar/Julian Devorak, Asra/Julian Devorak, Julian & Apprentice, Portia Devorak/Nadia
Comments: 17
Kudos: 50





	1. ship in a bottle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! i am absolutely new to the fandom, but after finishing the main three routes this au came to mind and well. here we are. 
> 
> this is purely self indulgent and written on a whim, so if you spot any typos please forgive me.
> 
> (i made a [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4OY5ocftwS0tU1TnXy4KgB) >>)

I.

Not everyone likes the sea. 

Some people loathe the idea of the unknown; the vast blue that spreads before them brings discomfort, salt that never seems to rub off of your skin completely. Some people think the oceans a threat, or a limit; could never think of getting further than the shore. Others used to love it, but some unfortunate event has scarred them, so they have vowed the ocean their enemy. 

None of those apply to Julian Devorak. 

To him, the seawater smells like home. The horizon is countless possibilities, ever-changing shades of colours spread before him, depending on where and how the sun hits. To him, the ocean is poetry, drama, adventure– it’s countless stories to tell and yet to be told. 

Julian knows exactly how to listen to the wind, how to navigate the waters, familiar and not. He loves the lull of his ship at night, when the waves rippling against the wood sound like a perfect song. He knows his vessel like the back of his hand, like he knows the hilt of his trusty dagger, like he knows how to swim. 

(And he’s a wonderful swimmer, thank you very much.)

To him, the sea is exactly what he needs to survive. 

Dawn is about to surround the ship and its crew– Julian’s beloved _Raven_ , sturdy yet elegant, swift yet magnificent. Julian used to think he’d never find his place, but this ship seems made for him: perfect for his instinct to escape everything, and what he needs when he craves ground under his boots. 

“Captain?” 

A low voice wakes Julian from his thoughts. As he turns, he pushes away a strand of hair from his eyes. The wind is picking up. 

“Yes?” He looks up to meet the gaze of his good friend and latest recruit, a kind giant named Muriel, the only person taller than Julian in the whole crew. 

He has grown to like Muriel quite quickly. He’s gotten accustomed to his ways, his presence, trustworthy and honest. Sure, he intimidated some of the crewmates at first– but he intimidates a lot of his enemies, too, which only helps. 

When they met each other, though, forest trees and ravenous plants threatening Julian’s safety, Muriel helped him without question, surly gaze, yet nifty hands. Soon enough, Julian realised Muriel was nothing more than a scared puppy himself. Not comfortable around people as much he was around nature. Julian saw himself in him, saw someone searching for an escape, someone searching for a life beyond society’s limitations. 

Alas, it’s been over a year since then, and Muriel stands taller than ever now, made friends with everyone on the ship, and makes for a wonderful deck mate. Although, the man’s shoulders are always tense still– Julian wishes he’d allow himself to relax, sometimes.

“We’re– approaching land. Soon,” Muriel takes pauses when he speaks, albeit now fewer than before. Julian is patient with him. “Nadia says there is– clear sea ahead.” 

“Ah, perfect!” Julian claps his hands together, can’t help but smile. He’s excited to set foot in Vesuvia again, eager to salute familiar faces as he walks through the cobbled streets. Most of all, excited to refill their supplies with some good alcohol and food. It’s been what? Five years, maybe? Julian sometimes thinks time passes slower at sea, because it feels like a lot longer. 

“Thank you, Muriel,” Julian smiles up at his friend, breeze now swaying Muriel’s dark hair over his eyes. Julian spots a sliver of a smile on Muriel’s lips, too. “We can begin preparations. You should go get some sleep for now, I’ll take over the rest.” 

Muriel looks like he wants to say something, but it lasts just a second. Then he nods, lips thin, and walks towards the hatch that leads to the hull of the ship. 

Julian looks up towards the top of the main mast, where he can spot a flash of gold and purple perched on the crow’s nest. He can only see Nadia’s tied hair flowing in the wind, but he knows that if he could see her face he’d probably see longing. 

Vesuvia was her home for a while, after all. 

  
II.

The port is alive and loud when they approach it, sun now high in the sky casting sharp shadows, warming up the brows of fisherpeople and traders alike. Julian looks down at the docks from the safety of his ship, as new and different smells hit his nostrils, mixing with the salty breeze of the ocean. Then his gaze trails up, out to the town spreading beyond the port, where people roll their carts away and into the streets, ready for the market. The town is awake and calling to him, and Julian is ready to discover it again after all these years

“Ilya, will you stop daydreaming, for once? A hand with these crates would be nice.” 

“I was just about to,” He turns with a coy smile and is met with a glare from Pasha, or Portia, depending during which path of life one has met her. Lucky enough for Julian, he’s known her since forever.

“Right, well, get to it, then,” she threatens.

Julian might be the captain of his ship, but his little sister has no problem calling him out whenever she can. He doesn’t mind it as much as he used to when they were younger, though. If anything, her bluntness has helped him often, saved him from doing something stupid.

Well, most of the time, at least.

Julian adjusts his loose shirt into his trousers, fixes his jacket a little, sets his belt right. Pasha rolls her eyes, then just walks off, arms steadily wrapped around a crate. Julian sees her stumble on her feet a second, but Nadia immediately rushes towards her, ready to help, charming smile on her lips. Pasha thanks her, shy, but clearly glad that Nadia is there to steady her.

Julian can’t help but find it funny, how oblivious they are to each other’s feelings. Pasha rarely lets anyone help, yet she can never say no to Nadia. It’s endearing, really. He wonders who will make a move first– although he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel somewhat protective over his sister. 

“They’ll figure it out soon,” someone murmurs, walking up next to him. “Don’t you worry. She’s in good hands.” 

Mazelinka looks up at him, knowing smile on her face. Julian wonders how can everyone read him so easily. He’s a good actor, why does his body betray him like this?

“Yeah, I know,” He sighs, but not without a smile.

Mazelinka is a warm presence in Julian’s life; she taught him everything he knows about sailing, and fighting, and, well, life. She took him and Pasha in as rugged orphans from Nevivon, cared for them through and through, and turned them into so much more. When she stepped down as Captain of the ship and offered the title to Julian, he tried hard to stifle his tears.

(Of course, he failed.) 

If there’s anyone Julian admires more than anything, is Mazelinka. 

Sure, he’ll never tell her that, for he knows she’ll click her tongue and call him a stupid, boot–liking boy. But she’ll do it with a fond smile, just as unable to hide her emotions as he is. Maybe that’s where he took it from. 

“Come on, stop wastin’ time, we got money to make,” she croaks, patting him on the back, walking ahead with clinking of metal and confident steps. 

Eventually, Julian helps his crew roll barrels and crates out from the ship, ready to trade and sell what they’ve found on their journey. Julian is good at drawing attention, he knows that, and he knows he is good at negotiating. So, quickly enough, a good part of their merch is gone, replaced with coins, food, and a small box of Golden Goose wine bottles. Julian and Nadia’s eyes light up at the sight.

When all is done, a couple deckhands remain to look after the ship and its cargo, Muriel stays too. Julian understands, strangers are still hard for him to deal with. So he salutes them with a smile, and wanders off into the city with the rest of his crew, everyone taking different paths, to explore the town at their pace.

But for Julian, the trading work isn’t finished. He grins at the thought of the Red Market, running hidden in the veins of the city. There’s a lot more to be gained in the underbelly of Vesuvia’s refined streets and its many well kept secrets.

  
III.  
  


The Red Market does not disappoint. Julian and Nadia walk through its tents and stands with keen eyes, knowing where and where _not_ to go. They sell some rare jewelry, ancient books stolen from an abandoned temple, and other _not so legal_ trinkets. After that, Julian ponders on buying an old plague doctor mask, the merchant promising him that it holds the power of healing anything, if worn. Nadia quickly calls the bluff, and drags Julian away from the stand. 

“It's astounding, how quickly you go finding trouble,” she scoffs. Her tone is stern, but she is clearly amused. “Those masks were destroyed for a reason.”

Nadia has been by Julian’s side for many years now. Before that, she used to live here, in Vesuvia, where they met. She was working in a small shop, with a calm and routined life, but it didn’t satiate her need to actually _live_ her life. When it turned out that Julian had bought clothes from her with fake Navarran coins, she put a dagger to his throat. 

He offered her a place on his ship. 

Nadia never shared much of her life before Vesuvia, though. Only that she ran away from Prakra. She misses it sometimes, but she doesn’t miss the suffocating pressure that her family put on her. She grew up surrounded by wealth, of that Julian is sure, and although he doesn’t understand why she’d leave that behind, he understands that sometimes the healthiest thing one can do for themselves (and, in his case, everyone else) is to disappear. 

“You know me, I love trouble,” Julian replies, putting on what he knows is a charming grin. 

Nadia poignantly ignores him, speeding up to walk ahead through the other tents. Julian feels almost offended.   
  
They reach a stall with unique and mysterious objects of all sorts, a different vibe from the other ones. Julian knows Nadia’s interest is piqued as much as his, this time.  
  
“Ah, yes, come, come, what is it that speaks to you two?” The owner looks old, old enough that Julian questions if he should be standing up at all, yet there’s a lively spark in his eyes that intrigues Julian.  
  


“What do you have to offer?” Nadia asks, her velvety voice a stark contrast with the croak of the seller.   
  


“Mh, perhaps a ring blessed by ancient deities? Yes, a fitting gift for such a beautiful wife, don’t you think?” The old man looks a Julian now, as he holds up a heavy and shiny ring, a big red crystal wrapped in golden leaves.  
  


Both Julian and Nadia can’t help but laugh at the implication that they could be together. _Married,_ even. They’ve used that cover before, sure, but not for a while. They don’t need to right now, anyways. And right now it’s also kind of hilarious to think about, really.   
  


“No, thank you,” Julian says, still amused at the thought.   
  


The seller seems to catch up on that, so he puts the ring down. “I see, forgive my assumptions. Can I interest you in an old spellbook, then? You look like the curious types.” He shoves a ruined and torn book towards them, an odd mark branded on the leather cover.   
  


“Uh– I don’t mess with magic, really.” Julian retorts. Nadia flicks for a second through the pages, but then doesn’t seem interested either.   
  


When she picks up a small owl statuette, though, the seller comes alive again. He animatedly starts talking to Nadia about the artifact, how it supposedly belonged to a powerful ruler, one that built Vesuvia in all its glory many centuries ago. Julian stops listening halfway through, eyes scanning the other objects on the table.   
  


There's a weird misshapen candle, a small and curved obsidian knife, a glass bottle filled with what looks like glowing seaweed. However, when Julian’s eyes lay on a silver bracelet, he can’t help but feel a pull towards it. It’s thick, enough so to cover most of his wrist, a pattern that resembles waves engraved on its surface. A small purple stone sits in the center of it.   
  


“What’s this one about? What’s the story of it?” Julian asks, eyes still enthralled by the bracelet.   
  


The seller is scrambling for an answer, for the first time since they started talking to him. “Ah– that. Not a lot worth on that, really. The ring is much more interesting, much more history behind it. Or the knife, perhaps.” 

Julian is surprised that the man is not trying to sell the bracelet to them, not even trying to make up a convoluted story on how it was carved inside a dragon’s nest, or some bullshit like that. 

“Come on, you must have _something_!” Julian pries now, looking back at the old man. His gray brow furrows, wrinkles even more prominent on his forehead. He stares Julian down for a few seconds, then he sighs, demeanor suddenly more nonchalant.

“Some fishermen found it in one of their nets, but soon left it behind, thinking it of little value. That’s what they told me, at least.”

“And what do _you_ think?” Julian asks, feeling Nadia’s eyes on him. She’s trying to read him, and it’s probably not that hard for her to do so. 

“Honestly?” The seller says, “I think it’s cursed. Doesn’t give good energy. I heard the woman that found it disappeared, leaving that behind. She used to catch some of the best fish in town too. A shame, really.” He shrugs, “Honestly, I’d love for you to take it out of my hands, but don’t come back complaining if you get hurt.”

It sounds like a challenge. Julian loves those. And he’s had his fair share of misadventures to not believe in curses. Not anymore, anyway.

“I’ll take it,” he says, picking the bracelet up. It’s pretty. “Do you take Navarran coins?” 

Nadia shoots him a look, but Julian keeps on smiling, content with his small find.

  
  
IV.  
  


The pub is loud, but Julian doesn’t mind. As much his crewmates can get lively when on board, there’s a stark difference between self-proclaimed pirates singing in the moonlight in the middle of the ocean, and patrons in a tavern talking over each other, the ever present chatter of a town that comes together after a day’s work. 

It’s funny, Julian thinks, how different this is, yet not that different at all. His ship has always the same faces, but changing surroundings, always new and curious places to explore. The pub he’s in, however, is steady, been here a long time, unaltered, but it’s the people that move and change instead. 

Either way, there are many stories passing through, all to be told and discovered.

A woman just offered rounds to all their friends, claiming that her business is getting back on its feet. There’s cheer, and laughter; a bard is playing quietly in a corner, a song about legends and myths that never get fully forgotten. He spots two patrons sitting at a table not far from his, bickering with smiles on their faces, clearly smitten with each other, despite the squabble. 

“What you smiling about?” 

Julian looks at the woman before him. Teal hair spilling out from her braid, cheeks brushed pink, brow always arched, somehow, as if she’s perpetually holding everyone under scrutiny. He knows that’s not the case with him, though. 

Okay, maybe a little. 

Regardless, Syran is a skilled magician, with a calming and steady energy to her. Her familiar, a small black rabbit with white patches and piercing blue eyes, pokes out of her bag placed on the table, nibbling at some celery and completely undisturbed by the noise around him. Jupiter looks cute, but has bitten Julian’s fingers enough times for him to know better than to try and pet his fur. 

Next to Syran, Pasha looks up at him like she was about to ask the same question as their friend.   
  


“I– well–” He’d love to make something up and not get sappy, but he knows better than to do that with the people before him. “This place has changed a lot since last time I’ve seen it. It’s– better. More alive.” Julian shrugs, prying his other arm away from the back of the bench, reaching for his mug. “Just like you.” He says to Syran. He tries to hide his blush as he takes a swig of his drink, the bitter taste going down his throat like underripe lemons. He hates it and he loves it. 

  
Syran laughs; Julian can’t help but notice how her green eyes light up in the candle light. 

  
Pasha smiles too, nodding in agreement. “He’s right, you know. The air is so much nicer!”

  
“Yeah, it has changed. We all have.” Syran contemplates the liquid in her mug as she speaks, shadow of a laugh still on her face. “The town is doing a lot better, Countess Myrian is truly a gift. And so was your help, you know that.” She finishes that by turning both to Julian and his sister, gratitude and affection oozing out of her. 

  
Julian loves to be the center of attention, usually, but only when it comes to big crowds. Here, under the honest eyes of his old friend, he feels a little _too_ on the spot. Nevertheless, he smiles, cocky. 

“No doubt on that, I can be incredibly helpful, after all.” 

Syran huffs out another laugh, although more akin to a scoff. “Yeah, and incredibly stupid. You really thought no one would recognise you in that ugly wig?”  
  
Pasha snorts as laughter makes her spit some of her drink and Julian widens his eyes at the reminder of his antics. He usually tries to forget about the time he tried to trick the old incompetent count of Vesuvia into admitting his crimes. Didn’t go exactly as planned.   
  
“Hey, I was _dashing_ , thank you very much.” He tries to argue, but it’s a lost cause. He’s the only one not laughing at himself, at this point, even though it’s mostly because he’s making a point to hold his own smile back.  
  
“I mean, blonde does suit you, but you don’t exactly blend easily in a crowd, you know?”   
  
Julian is aware of his lanky features, his height was always a burden when he was younger. The kids in his Nevivon would mock him for being _already_ so tall at the age of ten. _Freaky Ilya_ , they used to chant. Then, Pasha would come screaming at them, threatening them away, always looking out for him. Julian remembers how, although grateful, it made him angry that he couldn’t stand up for himself like he wanted. That his younger sister showed more courage than he ever had, when he should have been the one protecting _her_. 

Now, though, Julian takes pride in his appearance, he knows he’s good looking. He’s learned a lot, different from the kid he was before. He knows he’s made a life for himself, however rough and frowned upon by so called _respectable_ people. He doesn’t need anyone to protect him, not anymore. 

Julian Devorak is the one putting himself forward so he can protect others; now he’s capable of that and proud of it.  
  
(Sure, Pasha always calls him reckless, rolls her eyes at him more often than he can count; Nadia tells him to stop being so stupid, gets angry. Countless times, Muriel has frowned at his wounds with concern as he healed them, thoughts clear on his face without him having to utter a word. Mazelinka has hits him on the shoulder and threatened him into starting to take care of himself. Even Syran told him to stop with the self-destructive tendencies, a handful of times, but Julian’s always shrugged it off. He appreciates their concern, but he’d rather not lose the people he cares for the most, however dangerous it might be for him.)

  
The night goes on, stories get shared, Nadia joins them, shoulder touching with Pasha’s under Julian’s knowing smile. Syran tells them about her life in the city, managing her magic shop, telling them about rowdy customers and complicated spells. Alcohol flows, and so does their laughter, echoing through the tavern like water by a cliff.  
  


Julian thinks he sees someone staring at them from the other side of the room, sitting alone, a hooded figure with sharp eyes. But before he can focus on them, more patrons hinder his line of sight and he goes back to his friends at the table.   
  
  
V.  
  


“Oh, I meant to ask you– what’s that? On your wrist?”  
  
Syran’s words are a gentle whisper, although something more than simple curiosity edges at the end of them. They’re walking through the now almost deserted streets of Vesuvia, the sounds of their steps steady on the stone. 

  
While Nadia and Pasha stayed in the tavern, Julian offered to walk Syran home, so that they could catch up more, giggles and secrets shared between them like when they first met, younger and more naive.  
  
He and Syran usually keep in touch through letters whenever they can, but one thing is writing to somebody, and another is being with them in person, after years. Last time they hugged was in Reskia, around two years ago, both of them travelling there by pure chance. Syran, for rare supplies. Julian, running away from a heist gone sour.   
  
“This?” He pulls up his arm, the silver bracelet reflects the moonlight. “Got it at the Red Market today. Seller said some bullshit about it being cursed, so, of course, I bought it. Isn’t it pretty?”  
  
Syran stares at it, frown on her face. “I don’t think he was bullshitting you, honestly. There’s some weird energy about it.”  
  
Julian looks at her with a frown. He doesn’t fuck around with magic, and he doesn’t trust it much, either. He trusts his friend, though, so he looks at the bracelet again, trying to pick up whatever she’s talking about.   
  
All he gets is his distorted reflection staring back at him, auburn disheveled hair and icy eyes. “I don’t get anything. Just a great addition to my aesthetic.”  
  
Syran rolls her eyes, “ ‘course you don’t. You refuse to. You could make a pretty good healer if you tried, you know?”   
  
Julian laughs at that. “Thanks, but I’d rather not. Magic’s not for me.” He waves a hand, pulled up sleeves of his jacket coming untangled with the movement. “Plus, why should it be, when I got you?” He throws an arm around Syran’s shoulders as they walk, squeezing her tight and crouching down a little, for she is much shorter than him. A bit of an awkward side hug, really, but a hug nonetheless. It engulfs her almost completely.  
  
“The offer to come on the ship is still valid, you know? We could do with your expertise,” His tone is teasing, but he’s actually serious. Syran knows it.   
  
Still, she deflects the offer, unsurprisingly, muffled words through his clothes. “Even if magic’s not for you?”   
  
“Even if magic is not for me,” Julian echoes her sarcasm, letting go of her, hand falling back to the red scarf tied around his waist.   
  
“Thank you, but you know I can’t leave this behind. Not now, at least.” She says, eyes downcast. Julian hums, he knows.   
  
“Seriously, though,” She starts now, tone even more stern. “Be careful. I’m not sure that thing is not enchanted, or something. It’s faint, but it’s there. I wouldn’t want anything bad happening to you.”   
  
He wants to laugh again, shrug her concern off, but there’s something about the way she’s speaking that doesn’t let him do that. He smiles at her, gentle.   
  
“I’ll be careful. Don’t worry, yeah?”  
  
She rolls her eyes. “You know I do.”  
  
There, he can’t help but tease her again. “I solemnly swear thatI’ll come to you the second I scrape my knees on accident, so you can take this evil bracelet away from me and throw it in the fire.”  
  
She scoffs, but looks at him with affection. “You ass.”  
  
He swoons, dramatic. “You wound me, Miss Syran.”   
  
She rolls her eyes, and he laughs, going to ruffle her hair. Just then, Jupiter hops out of Syran’s bag and she puts him on her shoulder, patting him lovingly. Julian slowly retracts his hand, the rabbit’s stare firm on him.  
  
“I know,” Syran says to Jupiter with a sigh, “He _is_ an idiot. A loveable one, though.”   
  
Julian bids Syran goodbye at the door of her shop, she hugs him with a caring smile, making him promise to come back tomorrow for some tea and maybe a tarot reading. He knows he can’t say no to her.   
  
VI.

Julian reaches the docks when the moon is high in the sky, full and welcoming. Hands in his pockets, he’s the only one around, save for a couple fishermen getting their boat ready to go out to sea.

Most of his crewmates have taken a room in the local inn, craving the normalcy of a soft bed. But not Julian. He is eager to go back to his ship, to his quarters. He can only sleep with the sound of the sea, anyway, though he gets little sleep anyway.  
  
Just as he’s about to approach his ship, his eyes dart to the water beyond it, to the right. He thinks it's just the moonlight playing tricks, creating shimmers and figures that aren’t there, but then he sees it again, not too far from the shore, a glimmer of.. _something.  
  
_ It lasts a second really, but Julian can see it’s darting the opposite way from where he’s going. So, curiosity digging at his heels, he turns around and chases the small ripples of water, albeit unreachable.   
  
Then, it stops.  
  
Julian spots the fishermen just as they push the ship off to sea, asks if they’ve seen what he has.  
  
One of the two shrugs, old stocky hands pulling at a net. “Didn’t see nothin’ but the moon, boy.”  
  
“Are you sure? It looked like it was skimming just below the surface. It was– fast. And shiny.”  
  
“Fast, y’ say?” The man scoffs. “Could have been anythin’. Don’t y’know waters ‘re filled with fish? Maybe have less cider next time.” The two men laugh, rugged, and it irks Julian. Yes, he’s had a bit to drink, but he’s walked most of it off since then. Whatever he saw didn't look like a regular fish, didn’t _feel_ like it.   
  
Then, he spots it again, so easy to miss he thinks maybe he is imagining it.  
  
Yet, for some inexplicable reason, Julian feels like something is tugging at him, coaxing his feet into running along the docks. The swimming figure’s intermittent appearance teases him, stopping, then showing for a second, then disappearing again.   
  
Finally, Julian reaches a small beach at the end of the docks, deserted save for an old rowboat docked there since who knows how long.   
  
Rocks edge the sides of the beach, almost protecting it from prying eyes. Julian is out of breath, so he slowly descends down, sand crunching under his boots. Some of it enters in the crevices, he feels it under his socks, but he’s not bothered.  
  
He stands, and waits, but the figure has disappeared; maybe he really has made it all up. He sighs, then slumps down on the sand, just a few inches away from where the water runs to meet the ground.  
  
The moonlight really is pretty and the scenery is calm and beautiful. He listens to the waves and closes his eyes, hands sprawled behind him as his arms support his back, head leaning up.  
  
Julian feels like he’s back to his old self for a second, feels like Ilya, staring at the waves and wondering if he’ll ever figure things out. If the world will ever be kind to him.

 _It won’t be_ , he wishes he could tell his younger self, _but you’ll get through it._

Then, the water ripples slightly different. It’s just a blink, a little _splash_ , not quite the same as waves crashing. It’s a sound that could fly by most people. But to Julian’s trained ear, it’s as clear as day. The distinct noise of something entering the water. Or, coming out.

He sits up, eyes prying around, but doesn’t see anything. Still, he feels watched. Part of him wants to ignore the feeling, get up and go back to his ship, and maybe he should. Maybe that would be the safe thing to do.

But Julian Devorak rarely plays safe.

Instead, he gets up, hand running along the handle of his dagger, secured in its holster but ready to make itself useful.  
  
He slowly approaches the water, boots meeting the waves with a similar sound to the one he’s heard before.  
  
He thinks he sees a flash of silver, just in the corner of his eye, this time closer and familiar. But, the moment he turns, it’s gone.  
  
“Huh,” he says out loud. “If I didn’t know any better I’d swear someone is following me.” He doesn’t feel so stupid talking to himself. He isn’t, really. He’s talking to whoever is there with him but won’t show themselves.  
  
“Well, guess I’ll go then, since you wanna hide.” Julian shrugs, bluffing. He throws one last glance to the water, suddenly more still than it was before.   
  
The moment he turns around to leave, he _swears_ he hears somebody laugh.   
  
It’s faint, but clear enough, like a lightly tapped crystal glass in a crowded room.   
  
Julian likes games, but he doesn’t like not having the upper hand. And right now, he’s clearly being made fun of.  
  
He turns around, smirk on his face. “Okay, I heard you this time. What do you want?”   
  
Nothing.   
  
“Kids should be in bed past this hour, don’t you think?”  
  
Then again, the laugh, a little louder now, coming from his left, by the rocks.  
  
“I’m no kid,” a voice rises above the water, just as clear as its laughter, but smooth and light, like silk drapings in the wind. Julian follows it, all senses on alert, boots treading lightly on the wet sand.  
  
“Who are you, then?”  
  
It's then that Julian’s breath stops in his throat. It’s when he turns around where the rocks edge the beach and finally sees them.   
  
Hair the colour of a cloud and purple eyes glistening in the moonlight, chest bare and water droplets falling all over them. Their tail gracefully lays on the sea scraped stone, silver and purple and teal entangled in each other, watercolor splashes on canvas.  
  
It’s then, that Julian’s mouth hangs open; then, that he wonders how is this real. It’s then, perched on a small rock, just a feet away from him, that Julian sees a mermaid. 

  
  
VII.

Julian has travelled all over. He’s heard legends and he’s heard stories and he’s heard people swearing by their own eyes on what they’d seen. But Julian never thought, in a million years, that his first encounter with a mermaid would be here, in Vesuvia. Or anywhere, really.  
  
A really good looking mermaid at that.   
  
“Who– what– I mean– Uh, hello?”  
  
Once again, that laugh, this time a hundred times better than the first two, enchanting almost.  
  
His instincts tell him to run, but he’s too curious, too fascinated by what’s in front of him, like the sky and the stars are shining just for this moment. Julian wants to doubt his own imagination too, but he's heard things about mermaids, knows what they say about their deadly ways with humans. How they can trick you, and deceive you, and how you should always be wary and never give them your name.  
  
“You’ve got something of mine, Julian Devorak.”  
  
Well, there goes that rule.  
  
“How–wh– how do you know my name?” Julian feels weird, like he’s stuck in place, unable to move any limbs. His hand still hovers around his dagger, but he’s not sure he’s got it in him to ever pull it out.  
  
Most of all, despite the rumours, Julian doesn’t feel threatened. He’s always had a flair for danger, anyway.   
  
“Sea people talk, you know. About you, your feats, your _ways_ . You’re quite the charmer, apparently.” They smirk a little at that, like they know more secrets about Julian that he knows about himself. “I wasn’t sure how to find you, but– well, guess you’re not as cunning as I thought– you followed me all the way here, after all.”  
  
Julian doesn’t know if he should feel flattered or offended, honestly. He decides to settle somewhere in the middle.

“I’m pretty sure _you_ were the one following _me_ ,” He scowls, “And I can be extremely cunning, I’ll have you know.”   
  
Or, he tries, at least. His ego gets the best of him, but the mermaid seems to just find him amusing.  
  
Coy smile on their lips, they pass a hand through their hair. Julian is positively taken by this otherworldly creature, thinks he feels blood coming up his neck.   
  
“You– you didn’t answer my question. Who are you? Are you– a mermaid?”  
  
“Guess you can say that,” the stranger chuckles. “Come closer,” then they add, a subtle shift in their tone.   
  
Julian is not sure he wants to, he can’t do that, he _shouldn’t._   
  
But here he is, completely enthralled, boots dragging forward, water rising up to his calves, drawing him deeper, and deeper, until it reaches his waist.   
  
He’s much closer to the mermaid now, he can see their sharp features, their lithe body, the necklaces on their chest; hair colour now looking closer to white than silver, delicately trailing over their eyes.  
  
“Uh, that’s odd,” The stranger says, looking genuinely confused, “You’re able to wear it.”  
  
“Wh– uhm– what are you talking about?” Julian arches his eyebrows, then fixes his shirt and he puts on a smirk. “I can wear anything extremely well, so you’re going to have to be more specific, dear.”   
  
The mermaid sighs, looks at Julian with subtle annoyance, “You stole my bracelet.”   
  
Slowly, Julian feels like he’s regaining control on his body again. He pulls up his arm. “This is yours?”   
  
The mermaid nods, “And very valuable, too.”   
  
“Oh, really?” Julian looks at it again; it’s shining slightly different than before,“You have good taste.”   
  
“I know. Can I have it back?” The mermaid raises an eyebrow, expectant.   
  
Julian is almost about to reach for it and take it off his arm, but before he does, he realises: he’s talking to a _fucking_ _mermaid._ He’d be stupid to let this opportunity go.  
  
“Wait– what do I get out of it?”   
  
“Huh?” The mermaid blinks for a second, thrown off, but they regain their composure quickly. “Nothing. The bracelet is mine. You stole it.”  
  
Well, that’s just not true.   
  
“Ah, but you see, _I didn’t._ ” Julian gestures as he explains himself. “I bought this, actually. And I was told it was just found before that. So, really, it’s mine, now.” He points at the mermaid with a slender finger, making a show of it. “Therefore, how do I know _you’re_ not the one trying to steal it from _me_ ?”   
  
They stare at him with narrow eyes, like they’re trying to get into his brain.   
  
Then, they sigh, unimpressed.   
  
“Fine, whatever, what do you want?”  
  
Oh.  
  
Okay.  
  
Julian hadn’t expected it to be this easy. He hasn’t thought that part through.   
  
“I– well, I–” he stammers, trying to think on his feet.   
  
The mermaid tinkers with one of their necklaces, a long silver chain with a blue stone pendant, looking up languidly. “Your choice. Gold? Luck? Love?”   
  
They stare at each other for what feels like an eternity, Julian at a loss for words like very few times in his life.  
  
“Uh– can I think about it?” He has gold. He’s been pretty lucky until now. And. He wouldn’t know how to fall in love for anyone. Not without hurting them, anyway.   
  
He looks at the bracelet once more, feeling a pull to it.   
  
The mermaid is clearly getting irked. “ _Think_ _about_ _it_? I’m offering you a mermaid’s wish, and you want to _think_ about it?”   
  
“I guess,” he shrugs. “I wanna be _smart_ about this, you know. Cunning, if you will.” Once again, he puts on a smirk, trying to get back at them for their earlier retort. But the mermaid just stares at him, mouth slightly agape.  
  
“You’re a weird one,” they say then, shaking their head.   
  
“Weirdly underestimated, perhaps,” Julian feels smug, like he’s finally got the upper hand.   
  
But once again, he doesn’t know what to do with it.  
  
Julian looks out at sea and thinks of his ship again, thinks that he should probably get back to it. It’s late enough. Although, it’s not like his insomnia is going to let him sleep once he’s in his quarters.   
  
“So, can I go now? Can I meet you tomorrow with my decision, or something?” He asks, although he doesn’t really want to leave, he’s got a mermaid in front of him. One that is obviously fed up with him, sure, but he still is curious about them.   
  
“Wh– no you can’t go now! I need that bracelet!” The mermaid leans forward, and for a second he thinks they’re about to jump from the rock and onto him.   
  
“Why? What’s so important about it? Surely you can scurry away in the water and find yourself some hidden treasure?” Julian asks, suspiciously.   
  
This time, the mermaid seems taken by surprise. “I– I need it, okay? Just tell me what you want so that I can get back to my life.”   
  
They don’t sound that convincing.  
  
Julian steps forward a little more, the water rippling as he walks. God, his boots are probably ruined. The wet clothes are starting to get a little too uncomfortable for his liking, and even though there’s a warm breeze passing through, he still feels a shiver crawl up his spine.   
  
Yet, something is pulling him further, but this time it’s his own will.   
  
He tries to get a better look at the mermaid, and they notice. They lean back a little, eyes wide and clutching their necklace. They almost seem–  
  
Tired. Sad. Lonely. It tugs at Julian’s heartstrings a little. He knows that look. He used to see it on himself and on his sister all the time.   
  
The mermaid is sheepish now, the brazen facade from before completely gone. There’s still a few feet between them and Julian, but it’s as clear as the sky: they look beautiful.   
  
“What are you looking at?”  
  
Julian is taken aback from the tone of their voice. Not really threatening, or angry anymore, almost like a genuine question, whispered between them and the sea. Heat creeps to his ears.  
  
He panics.  
  
“Uh– want to, like, hang out?” Julian blurts out before he can think. “Take a walk, or something?”   
  
The mermaid blinks at him, for a few seconds, then– just when Julian thinks they’re going to deck him in the face – they start to laugh. _Really_ laugh. The same laugh that was tricking Julian before, except this time louder and genuine.   
  
Julian stares at them in awe for a second, and then he realises–   
  
Well isn’t he just fucking _stupid_.   
  
“Right, sorry– no legs, can’t walk, uh– I mean– I didn’t mean to be disrespectful. Was that disrespectful? I just–”  
  
“That’s not the issue, Julian.” They smile at him now, positively amused. If possible, Julian blushes more. They haven’t used his name since they first appeared, and this time it sounds completely different. Mischievous, even. “No human has ever asked for that before, it’s kind of– it’s kind of refreshing, really.”   
  
“Oh–I– I mean, you don’t have to, I guess gold–” In the middle of his phrase, the mermaid ducks into the water below the rock, disappearing completely in its depths.  
  
“—is fine too.” Julian finishes by pouting his lips, positively confused. “Oookay. Does that mean I get to keep the bracelet?!” He shifts around aimlessly, shouting at the water. When nothing happens, he just mutters a _watever_ under his breath and starts walking back to the beach, still trying to make sense of the events.   
  
“Oh? Are you not going to wait for me?” A voice startles him, coming from right behind him.   
  
When he turns, Julian is met with piercing purple eyes and white fluffy hair looking up at him. From up close. Way closer than before.  
  
“I– uh– you can stand?” He asks, gazing down at the mermaid. They are dripping in water and mostly naked, except for a teal cloth haphazardly tucked around their waist, covering. Well. What needs to be covered.   
  
The mermaid laughs again, eyes crinkling. “Yes, I can stand. I can walk, too. How about that?”   
  
“Huh,” Julian says. “That’s– refreshing.” He says, mimicking their words and smiling at them.   
  
“So, do you still want that walk, Julian? Or are you scared?” Their voice is a low whisper, smooth, crawling into Julian’s ears and making his heart race.   
  
“Yes– I mean, no. I– I mean, I’m _not_ scared, and _yes_ , I still want that walk.”   
  
He hates to admit it, but– he’s such a fucking mess.   
  
“Great! lead the way, then.” The mermaid nods ahead, behind Julian.   
  
“Only if you tell me your name. You know mine, after all.” He thinks it’s only fair.   
  
The mermaid seems to ponder on it for a while, looking for something in Julian’s eyes. Then, another smile.   
  
“You can call me Asra.”  
  
“Asra,” Julian mouths the name, lets it roll on his tongue, even more fascinated than before. He catches the mermaid glancing at his lips. Huh, interesting.  
  
“Let’s go, before I change my mind.” Asra adds, demanding.  
  
Julian obeys, and they walk out of the water, back towards Vesuvia’s deserted night streets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> take a shot everytime julian says he doesn’t mess with magic
> 
> anyway, hope you enjoyed that so far!
> 
> I'll try to update it soon, but in the meantime get comfy, grab some tea, and let me know what you think! i honestly love these two and their dynamics, so i hope i've made them justice! 
> 
> thank you for reading <3
> 
> Reach me @:  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/lavenderchiId)  
> [cc](https://curiouscat.me/sunriseyoongi)  
> [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4OY5ocftwS0tU1TnXy4KgB)


	2. sing me like a choir

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh, soooo this is turning out longer than i expected? not that i mind, cause this is fun.
> 
> enjoy!
> 
> (also, i made a [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4OY5ocftwS0tU1TnXy4KgB), as i tend to do. would be cool if you listened while reading.)

VIII.

  
Julian feels weird. This is weird, right?  
  
He keeps his hands in his pockets, eyes focused on the tip of his boots. Now that they’re side by side on even ground, Julian notices how much shorter than him Asra is. Julian can’t help but wonder how it would feel to hug them. Not that he wants to, he's just. Curious. For science purposes.  
  
Regardless, the two of them are still damp, water droplets falling here and there. Julian’s grateful for the approaching summer heat, but even summer nights in Vesuvia can get chilly. And, most of all–  
  
This is _weird.  
  
_ They don’t talk much at first, Asra just kind of padding alongside Julian, looking up and down at the buildings in the city. Julian finds himself glancing at Asra often, as if trying to make sure that’s he’s actually got someone next to him and hasn’t just been imagining it all.   
  
“Aren’t you cold?” Julian tries, unable to bear the silence anymore. Also genuinely wondering how can Asra just walk around with that cloth tied around their waist. Where did they get it anyway?   
  
Asra shrugs. “I get used to it. I've swum in freezing waters.”   
  
Julian hums, then looks at Asra’s naked feet stepping on the concrete. Then up at their profile once more.   
  
“What?” Asra asks, without turning towards Julian, but an amused smirk spreads on their face.  
  
Julian stops in his tracks, starting to take off his jacket, and Asra walks only a few more steps before turning around and realising that Julian is standing still. Once the jacket is off, the wide sleeves of Julian’s shirt break free, silky material draping from his shoulders and showing more of his chest than before.   
  
“Can I?” Julian asks while tentatively holding the garment, catching up to Asra. The mermaid just smiles at him, inviting, feline-like eyes.   
  
Julian gets closer and wraps his jacket around Asra’s shoulders. He straightens the fabric along the arms, sleeves flowing down like a cloak. Then he pulls the neck of the jacket, making sure it sits right, hands dangerously close to Asra’s neck and jaw as he ties the button at the top. The mermaid doesn’t complain, just looks up at him from under their bangs, coy.  
  
“Uh– here you go,” Julian breathes out, unable to take his eyes off of Asra’s.   
  
“Thank you,” Asra smiles, their voice almost a whisper.  
  
Julian tries to resort to his smug front, grin on his face. “Looks good on you, y’know?”

Really, Julian’s black jacket clashes with everything Asra is. There’s golden buttons on the cuffs, inside it’s lined in red, material a little too heavy to the touch for a summer night. Asra is soft silver moonlight, breezy whispers, calming blues and purples. Made of delicate foam and seawater. 

  
And yet, it doesn’t look so off on them. They carry themselves with a subtle grace that someone like Julian could only ever dream of. 

  
“Yeah?” Asra reaches up to cup Julian’s hands, still holding the jacket.  
  
“Y–yeah.” Julian’s cocky grin fades as quickly as it showed, a creeping blush taking place instead.   
  
They’re so close, Julian’s gaze drops to Asra’s full lips. And maybe there’s still some alcohol in Julian’s system, or maybe it’s just his recklessness, or maybe it’s something more. But he doesn’t quite understand what’s happening to him, heart light in his chest.   
  
What was that story about mermaids enchanting people?  
  
A lone seagull flies over them with a squeak, breaking the spell.   
  
Julian steps back, and they start their walk again. He tries not to look at Asra as much, but he feels the other’s curious gaze on him at times.  
  
“So, uh, uhm– do you come here often?” Julian asks after a while, not even sure he’s registering the words that come out of his mouth. “Like, in the city? Since you can walk, and all, you know–” 

Julian feels like he’s digging his own grave, but Asra laughs.   
  
“Not as often as I’d like,” They take a small pause, as if choosing their next words with care. “Most of the time... humans don’t take so kindly to us. So I tend to hide.” Asra chuckles, like they’ve made a joke, words sounding light– but there’s something more behind them. Julian wonders just exactly _how_ unkindly they’ve been treated by humans.  
  
Which, in turn, makes him wonder why they agreed to this in the first place.   
  
“Then, why are you trusting me?”  
  
Asra turns to him with a grin and an arched eyebrow.  
  
“What makes you think that I do?” Their tone is teasing, but again, it’s not just that. It’s also a warning.  
  
“Huh,” Julian says, accepting the challenge. “Maybe I could change that.” 

IX.  
  
The rest of the night goes a little like this:  
  
Julian wonders what Asra likes about Vesuvia, Asra is just curious about humans and their habits. Is very fascinated by the architecture. Wonders how their magic is different from seafolk.  
  
“Oh, I don’t do magic,” Julian says, chuckling. “But– a good friend of mine does.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Uh, she was born like that I guess? I mean, she was an apprentice when I met her but now–”  
  
“No,” Asra laughs. “I mean why don’t _you_ do magic.”  
  
Julian freezes at the question. He’s never thought much about it. He always liked logical things. Practical. Tangible.   
  
Magic just– has never been one of those, in his eyes.  
  
“Guess I’m not made for it,” Julian shrugs, hands in his pockets. “I tried once, with my friend. Almost burned down her shop.”  
  
He laughs, thinking about the time Syran tried to teach him fire magic. It took him about twenty tries before one tall flame erupted for a second, reached her ceiling and then disappeared. Was enough to light up one of the drapings, though.  
  
Asra hums. “Well, I wouldn’t give up on it.”  
  
Julian would rather not think about it. “Can _you_ do magic? Besides, you know– the legs thing. Can all mermaids do that?”  
  
Asra grins, playful, “More or less.”  
  
Julian isn’t sure which question Asra is answering, but he doesn’t have time to reply.  
  
As they’re about to pass a building, someone gets pushed out of its door, stumbling backwards. They fall on their ass right in front of Julian and Asra, dangerously close to the edge of the canal behind him. Gasps and murmurs come from the threshold, red light flowing out of it. Julian realises the place must be a night club of sorts. He’s been to his fair share of them, but hadn’t realised Vesuvia still had one.   
  
“Don’t you fucking come back, you asshole!” A tall woman screams from the door, frowning at the man on the floor. He groans in return, slowly getting up and massaging his back.  
  
“Come ooon Varja, thought I was your favourite!” He slurs, clearly intoxicated.  
  
The woman sneers, bitter. “You fuckin’ wish, Lucio. Be grateful Tomàs only hurt your arm.” She briefly glances at Julian and Asra, annoyed. Then glares back at the man.   
  
“Get the fuck out of here and get your shit together,” She slams the door behind her.  
  
“ _Get your shit together,”_ the man mocks the woman under his breath, changing his pitch. “Whatever, their loss.”  
  
Julian hears Asra gasp, small, barely audible. Julian looks at them and sees they’re stepping backwards, like they’re trying to hide. Or run away.  
  
The man, Lucio, finally turns to them, adjusting his white jacket. He passes a hand through his blond hair, eyebrow raised.  
  
“What you lookin’ at?” He glares at Julian, who just waves a hand.  
  
“Oh– nothing. Just passing by–” He feels Asra tug at his shirt, pieces falling together.  
  
Lucio seems to realise too. “Hey–wait– that you, Asra? You little shit, the fuck d’you think you’re doing?”  
  
  
Asra was backing up because– of this man.  
  
Julian gets pulled away by Asra just as Lucio lunges for them, wild chase starting.  
  
“What’s going on?” Julian tries to ask, looking at their tangled hands and then at Asra as they run, Lucio hot on their tail but thankfully drunk enough for him to be losing ground.  
  
“Not now,” Asra says.  
  
“You think you can get away, this time? Get back here, you piece of shit! You owe me!”  
  
“Fuck off, Lucio!” Asra shouts back, but Julian can hear something other than anger in their voice.   
  
Julian is utterly confused, the night unfurling completely different from what he’d imagined. He loves a good run, he’s been chased a bunch of times, but Asra is dragging him deeper into Vesuvia without an apparent pattern. They turn a street, then another, then another. Julian follows suit and looks back every now and then, legs starting to feel sore.  
  
When they don’t hear Lucios’s shouts or steps anymore, Asra finally stops, catching his breath. Julian throws his back on a wall and slides down to sit on the floor, lungs on fire.  
  
“The– fuck– did he– want?"  
  
“Long story,” Asra pants, throwing a glance behind Julian, towards the end of the alleyway where they came from.  
  
Julian feels like he’s going to die, adrenaline rush now seeping out of his body and leaving only exhaustion in its trail.   
  
“You ok?” Asra asks, looking down at him like they didn’t just run half the city barefoot.  
  
“Yeah, just,”Julian waves a hand, breathing finally calming down, “wasn’t prepared for that.”  
  
Asra chuckles, then slowly sits next to Julian, shoulders touching.

  
The moonlight shines again on their features, faintly, passing through the tall walls around them. Asra looks almost ethereal, despite the black of Julian’s jacket. He wonders how the single button at the neck has held on through their run.  
  
They sit in silence, Julian’s arms resting on his knees, trousers still uncomfortably damp from the seawater. He feels a little gross, sweat joining the mix as it trails down his back.  
  
“Where are we, anyway?” Asra finally says, looking around.  
  
It takes him a second, but Julian recognises the marbled walls, the shiny outlines marking the fancy windows.  
  
“Temple district,” Julian deadpans.  
  
Julian’s never been one for religion, but he can appreciate the history that’s embedded in the sacred places around him.  
  
“Looks beautiful,” Asra mutters.   
  
“Hm, this is barely it, this street doesn’t really make it justice.”  
  
Asra shrugs, looks at Julian under heavy eyelashes. “Still beautiful.”  
  
Julian feels a blush creep up again, his own blood betraying him.  
  
“Well,” he swallows, then gets up, dusting his trousers and reaching out a hand to Asra, “wanna see something better?”  
  
Asra smiles, intrigued, then grabs Julian’s hand and lets him help them get up.   
  
This time there’s a crackle of energy running through their hands that Julian hadn’t felt before, with all the panicked running. He doesn’t dwell on it though, instead he just starts walking, and Asra follows.  
  
He leads them through the temple district, Asra looking astonished by the tall and refined buildings. Once they make it to the square, empty except for them and few crows sipping from the big water fountain, they stop.  
  
“Wow,” Asra breathes out. “It’s all so– polished. Different from the docks.”  
  
Julian nods. “The lower parts of Vesuvia aren’t as rich as this one. Yet, everyone gathers here when there’s ceremonies, no matter their status.”  
  
“That’s nice.”  
  
“I guess so,” Julian shrugs, then grins. “But there’s secrets here, too.”  
  
“Huh?”  
  
“Well, am I still low on the trust scale?” Julian asks, teasing.   
  
Asra makes a face, like they’re thinking about it. “I guess you went up a little. Like, ten percent.”  
  
“Oh, wow, I’m making fast progress, it seems.”  
  
“Don’t make me regret it,” Asra glares, but it’s only half serious.  
  
Julian laughs, then brings a hand to his heart, “I‘ll try not to.”  
  


X.  
  
When Julian first visited Vesuvia, Nadia showed him this special place. It wasn’t quite an inn, nor quite a tearoom, it was something different and in between. It was a secret for few people, a place of solace during times of hardship for the town. Hidden in the courtyard of an old abandoned temple, entrance behind an old dark green door edged in a narrow street, was the _Amber Moon._

  
He wonders if it’s still there, but he doubts it would be closed. He hasn’t visited since the last time he’s been in Vesuvia, but he has visited enough to hopefully still be a welcomed guest.   
  
They scurry through small alleyways, Julian finds himself grabbing Asra’s hand again when he spots them stopping to look around at the architecture. Lots of hand holding, tonight, but it’s not like Julian’s against it.  
  
Once they come to stand in front of the door to the place, he can hear faint chatter, maybe some music, but it’s really quiet. Like a song carried by the wind. Just as Julian is about to raise a hand to knock, he looks at Asra once more. Something tells him their attire won’t exactly blend in with the other patrons.  
  
“What?” Asra asks, eyebrow raised.  
  
“Uh– you– you’re kinda naked,” Julian mentally smacks himself because he could have phrased it better, but– he’s not really wrong. “I mean, if you don’t want to draw attention we need to find actual clothes else for you to wear, or something. On the bottom, at least. Or– uh–”  
  
Honestly, sometimes Julian thinks his sister is right. He should shut up more often.   
  
“Oh, this? Right. Okay. Just a second.” Asra smirks up at him, then takes off Julian’s jacket and hands it back to him. Julian stares at his jacket, then at Asra.   
  
“That’s not– not what I meant, Asra– I– uh, not tha _t I_ mind this look, but– you know, other people might–” He looks at Asra as they look around the alleyway.   
  
“Oh, you don’t mind, huh?” Asra teases, turning over their shoulder with a smirk before crouching down in a corner and grabbing something from the ground  
  
“I mean, well, yeah I– what are you doing?” Julian asks, trying to deflect the question but also more confused than he’s been the whole night, assuming that’s even possible.   
  
Asra is walking back to him with a smirk, hands cupped, holding some– dirt?   
  
“That’s dirt,” Julian points out.  
  
“Yep.”  
  
“What are you gonna do with dirt?”  
  


“Shhh– let me concentrate, Julian.” Asra glares back at him and Julian nods, complying.  
  
Julian stares at Asra as they whisper something, focusing on the dirt in their hands like they are holding some precious mineral. Then, they stop, suddenly frowning at Julian.   
  
“Close your eyes.”  
  
“Wh–”  
  
“You’re distracting me, close your eyes.”  
  
“All right, all right.” Julian doesn’t even know why he tries to question Asra’s actions anymore, at this point. He closes his eyes, raising his arms in defeat, one hand still clutching his jacket.  
  
He hears Asra muttering again, then he hears them blow air away. Julian really doesn’t understand magic.  
  
“Okay, you can look.”  
  
When Julian opens his eyes again, Asra is wearing an entire outfit. Gray trousers and a flowy teal blouse, scarf tied at the waist and even flat shoes to match. The blouse’s deep neckline still shows their jewelry, but it all ties together perfectly, so very– Asra.   
  
“You could do that all this time? And you just– walked around– like _that?_ ”  
  
Asra shrugs, coy smile on their lips, “You said you didn’t mind.”   
  
Then they wink at him. They fucking _wink.  
  
_ Julian stutters but then turns to the door before he can formulate an answer, knocking three times, softly.  
  
The door opens slightly, sharp eyes looking from the crevice.  
  
“Name?” They whisper.  
  
"Julian Devorak,” He clears his throat, lowering his voice to match. “It’s been a while, but–"  
  
The door flings open, a tall and muscular woman smiling wide at him.   
  
“Oh, bless the stars! Julian, you’re back! Mazelinka told me you were around!”  
  
“Lilinka! You’re still here!”  
  
"Course I am!"  
  
The woman pulls him into a hug, squeezing tight. When she pulls away she brings Julian in by the arm.  
  
“Come in, come in, let’s not make noise out here–” She seems to finally notice Asra. “You brought a friend! New member of the crew?”  
  
Asra waves a hand, sheepish.  
  
“Kind of,” Julian smiles, charming.  
  
Lilinka drags them inside, and Julian looks around, a rush of senses washing over him as soon as she closes the door. Things haven’t changed much since last time he’s been here.

The courtyard is adorned in colorful drapings hanging from the balcony that circles it, suspended lanterns creating faint light. In the middle, a small fountain filled with flower petals. All around there’s candles, low tables with pillows as chairs; people sipping tea, eating pastries, chatting and laughing amongst themselves. He smells the familiar scent of incense and citronella. Opposite from them, on the other side of the courtyard, a door is open, warm light coming from the room inside. A man exits holding a tray filled with glasses, a bright smile on his face as people cheer for him. Julian recognises the music he faintly heard from the outside, now much louder as a woman in the corner plays a lyre and another one accompanies her with a flute.  
  
This place is embedded with magic, he knows this. Something prevents loud sounds from escaping, keeping it all inside like a little bubble concealed from prying eyes and ears. It is the complete opposite of the taverns Julian usually visits, but it’s a nice change.   
  
Lilinka seats them at a table, promises to bring them the house specials in a jiffy, while they get comfortable.  
  
Julian looks over at Asra, sitting next to him on one side of the square table.  
  
They are looking around, astonished, mouth slightly agape. It’s endearing.  
  
“What do you think?” Julian asks.  
  
When Asra looks back at him, there’s concern in their eyes.  
  
“It’s nice. Different.”  
  
Julian’s smile drops. “But?”  
  
“A little overwhelming.” Asra twists their hands, fiddling with the rings adorning them. Julian can’t help but reach out. His wide palm and long fingers almost engulf Asra’s hands completely.  
  
“I promise you, no one will hurt you here,” Julian says with intent, getting lost in Asra’s eyes for a second.  
  
Asra nods, smiling again their flirty smile that Julian will never fully get used to without feeling something squeeze at his chest.

Lilinka brings them spiced tea and flakey pastries to accompany, covered in honey and dried fruits, wonderful mix of colours and smells.  
  
Asra waits for Julian to take a sip before they do too, careful, Lilinka waiting eagerly next to them.  
  
“So?” Julian asks.  
  
Asra’s eyes light up once they try the tea. “It’s really good!"

Asra goes to gulp down more, but Lilinka stops them. “Woah, there, you don’t want to drink it all at once, sweetheart. There’s a special kick to it.” She winks at them and then scurries away when a patron calls for her attention.  
  
“Special kick?” Asra asks, raising an eyebrow.  
  
“Alcohol,” Julian laughs. “Knowing Lilinka, probably one of the finest liquors in the region.”  
  
“Oh,” Asra looks into his cup, smelling it. “Interesting.”  
  
“Have you ever had human food, anyway?”   
  
“A little,” Asra nods, “not like this, though.” They say before biting into a pastry. Their eyes widen again, a giggle bubbling up from inside them.   
  
Julian can’t help but smile more, so so fascinated and attracted by them, like they’re intoxicating.  
  
“Twenty,” Asra mutters, catching Julian’s stare.  
  
“Huh?”   
  
“Twenty percent on the trust scale,” They smile.

  
  
XI.  
  
One way or another, they end up talking more than what Julian had expected. For someone so mysterious, Asra becomes easier to read the more you know them.  
  
The music keeps going, the teahouse is open most of the night, and Asra really seems to have grown to love the drinks.  
  
They tell Julian little about themselves, about how they’ve mostly been around the waters of Vesuvia with his family, travelled here and there, but not this close to the city– _rarely_ this close to the city. They’ve made deals with humans, but always been wary of them, despite Asra’s curiosity.   
  
There’s stolen glances here and there, Julian realises more and more just how different Asra is from everything he knows. And yet, they seem more comfortable around him now, interest poking out from every edge of them. Both of them have cheeks brushed pink, result of the liquor in the tea, but they’re not drunk, barely tipsy. 

  
At least Julian is, he can’t quite figure out if Asra can even get drunk.  
  
Then, Lilinka joins them for a little bit, talking about how Julian helped her hide her place from the palace when raids were rampant. She pats his back with enthusiasm (and making him spit a little of his tea in the process.)

“He’s travelled all over and he acts all tough, but he’s a softie with those he cares about. Aren’t you, Julian?”  
  
Asra looks endeared and Julian feels embarrassed, so he just hides behind his cup.   
  
  
“I’m very intimidating, thank you very much.” He mutters, but both Asra and Lilinka laugh.  
  
When Lilinka leaves them again, Asra asks Julian about said travels, and really that’s a terrible question to ask Julian Devorak, because he _will_ tell you infinite tales about everything he’s lived through.   
  
Like that one time he fought a swarm of flying fire beetles with one hand tied behind his back; or when he secretly stole an expensive bottle of wine from a consul in the south, creating chaos in their town– Nadia had to save him from that one. There’s also the time he found himself face to face with an albino cheetah that chased him only because it wanted to be pet– Muriel helped him that time, Julian knew he was good with animals, but never realised just how much. Or the one time he accidentally joined a competition to win a prince’s hand in marriage– in his defence, he wanted to train his sword fighting skills. Yes, he signed up drunk, but that’s not the point.  
  
Asra seems to hang from every word as time passes, the patrons get less and less, the night keeps going on around them.  
  
  
“Did you win, then?” Asra asks, leaning towards Julian like an eager child.  
  
Julian laughs, grin lingering as he answers. “Well, I guess you could say I was married for a short period of time. Like, maybe a couple hours? I wasn’t going to miss out on a kingly reception. Lots of foods and drinks from all over.  
  
Asra chuckles, Julian feels their eyes on him.  
  
When he turns, Asra is staring at him with a glint in their eyes, scrutinising Julian’s gaze.

He feels out of breath.  
  


“What are you looking at?” Julian echoes, voice low, not as graciously like Asra before, though. He finds himself more entranced than ever.  
  
Asra doesn’t answer, just keeps smiling, inching closer.  
  
Julian thinks it’s going to happen, they’re going to kiss, and he’s not going to mind because yes they’ve only met an hour ago, but it feels so–   
_  
Right_ . 

Asra’s nose is just a whisper away from his when he answers with a smirk.  
  
“You still have my bracelet, Captain.”  
  
Julian feels his eyes go wide, more warmth spreads on his cheeks. Goddamn.  
  
“Ye- yeah. Right.”  
  
This is all part of a deal. He forgot about that. He forgot about Asra’s real nature.  
  
“I’m afraid we’re about to close for the night, friends,” Lilinka approaches them putting a hand on each of their shoulders. Julian notices Asra wince for a second, but they don’t pull away.  
  
“Sure, let me just–” Julian reaches for his pouch, but Lilinka stops him.  
  
“Don’t even think about it, Julian, it’s on the house. Just come visit more often, yeah?” Lilinka smiles at him, then turns to Asra, whispering as if she’s trying to hide her words from Julian, but not really.  
  
“He’s a slippery boy, this one, you better hold him tight.”  
  
“Noted.” Asra answers.  
  
Julian blushes even more and downs the last of his drink under Asra’s sultry gaze.  
  
They thank Lilinka and usher out, the sky a little clearer now, agreeing to make their way back to the docks.   
  
They’re quiet at first, but there’s something that Julian can’t help but wonder, tugging at his brain.  
  
“So, are you ever going to tell me who that man was, chasing us?”  
  
Asra seems to jump at the question, shrinking a little in his clothes.   
  
“No one,” he sneers. “Someone awful.”  
  
“Mh,” Julian hums. “Did he hurt you?”  
  
Asra looks up at Julian, clearly at a loss for words.   
  
“Sorry, I don’t mean to pry– I just. You seemed scared of him for a second there.”  
  
Asra sighs, looks back at their feet.  
  
“Yeah, I– I hate that I was.”  
  
Julian just eyes them, notices how their whole mood has shifted. Maybe he shouldn’t have brought it up.   
  
“You don’t have to–”

“He made a deal with my father.” Asra sighs out, interrupting Julian.   
  
“He asked for– power. Strength. But he started abusing it and– things like that come with a price, his body deteriorating. He didn’t like that.” Asra hesitates, before uttering the next words, “He– tried to hurt my father, he _did_ hurt my father, so– so I took his power back. He didn’t like that either. Now he thinks I owe him a wish still.”  
  
Julian ponders for a second, taking it in. He understands Asra’s behaviour now, the way they flinched when touched, the way they shrunk in fear.   
  
“What a royal piece of shit,” Julian says, finally.   
  
It makes Asra laugh a bit, and the mood lightens.   
  
“I’ve had my fair share of shitty humans to deal with, but yeah– yeah, he was by far the worst one.”  
  
“I can imagine,” Julian says, then turns to them after a pause. “Thank you.”  
  
“For what?” Asra looks confused, head tilting to the side, small white curls falling on their face.  
  
“For trusting me with it,” Julian says, gentle. “And– I’m sorry it happened to you. No one should have to deal with assholes like that.”  
  
“Oh,” Asra blinks twice, like they are taken by surprise. Then they turn away from Julian, looking down. “S-sure.”  
  
Are they? Flustered? 

Julian would be lying if he said that doesn’t make him a little smug.   
  
  
  


XII.

The docks are peaceful when they arrive, seagulls making their voices heard as the sky starts to clear up. Julian spots a few fisherpeople starting to approach their boats, but they don’t seem to notice the two of them.   
  
He and Asra end up walking back to the little beach where they first met, sitting on the sand, staring at the horizon.   
  
It feels like it’s been so long since Julian arrived here, running after an odd reflection on the water. It’s barely been the span of the night.  
  
“Guess this is it, then,” Julian says, glancing at the bracelet around his wrist.   
  
If at first he didn’t mind much, now he’s not sure he wants to let go of it. That means Asra will leave and– Julian kinda hates the thought of it.   
  
“Yep,” Asra says.  
  
“Yep. So–”  
  
“Unless you want to ask for more,” Asra whispers.

Julian turns to them, eyes wide. “Like what?”  
  
Asra chuckles, clearly making fun of him.   
  
“Oh–” Julian laughs, nervously. “Right, I only asked for a walk.”  
  
“Why, do you _want_ more?”   
  
Once again, Juian is drawn to Asra’s eyes. There’s something more behind them this time, so close Julian thinks he can see specks of gold. It might be his imagination, but really, at this point of the night anything could be plausible.   
  
“Do _you_ ?” He breathes, noticing how Asra’s gaze trails Julian’s face.   
  
Julian can tell, he isn’t the only one feeling this energy between them.   
  
“Maybe,” Asra’s smile is a sly one, knowing. “Maybe not.”  
  
They’re so close and Julian is tired of these moments. He’s tired of having Asra so near, yet so out of reach.   
  
Sure, they only met mere hours ago, but Julian hasn’t felt this connected to someone in so long. Maybe it’s part of the mermaid charm, maybe it’s that he genuinely had a good time, forgetting all of his worries. Maybe it’s simply that right now, right here, he wants to close the distance between them.  
  
So, as Asra lingers, Julian decides he can’t wait anymore.  
  
When he reaches out to kiss them, he doesn’t find resistance, only longing and the taste of saltwater. It’s slow and shy at first, a small kiss, lips barely parting. Then Julian pulls back, hand still on Asra’s cheek.  
  
“Is– is this okay, then?”   
  
Asra just smiles and nods in return, lunging forward to wrap their fingers in Julian’s hair. This time it’s more intense; they both want the same thing, they both feel the same thing.   
  
Julian’s lips part to let Asra in, tongues meeting and lingering taste of the spiced tea more prominent now. Asra reaches to grasp Julian’s shirt, getting close, closer than they’ve been the whole night.  
  
It makes Julian’s chest swell, butterflies and dragonflies and whatever it is that’s making his insides rustle so much.   
  
Then, suddenly, the kisses get heated, and Asra throws a leg over Julian, straddling him. Julian’s breath hitches in his throat as Asra starts kissing along his jaw.   
  
“Honestly–” Julian says in between it all, “I didn’t realise this was part of the deal.”  
  
Asra looks back up, holds Julian’s face in his hands. “It isn’t.”  
  
Then they kiss him again, eager, wanting, more and more intense as their tongues and lips meet over and over again.   
  
Julian doesn’t know how long it’s been. He doesn’t care, he could get lost in this feeling forever.   
  
“Fuck, Asra,” He mutters when Asra’s mouth reaches his collarbone, biting softly along it.   
  
He can feel Asra smile into his skin, before they trail back up, biting harder. Julian is going to lose it.   
  
Then, when Asra has reached Julian’s lips again, now hungrier than they’ve ever been, they pull back.   
  
Julian opens his eyes and faint light hits him, the sunrise creating a halo behind Asra’s heavenly figure.   
  
“I’ve got to go, Captain.”   
  
Julian can’t formulate a word, not yet, lips swollen and cheeks burning.   
  
“So soon?” He smirks, finally, his voice a whisper. Asra chuckles.   
  
“Unfortunately,” they say as they get up from Julian, standing above him. Their clothes are gone, Julian hadn’t realised, the small teal cloth back in its place.   
  
He gets up awkwardly, gaining height over Asra again. 

“Right, well, I guess– is this goodbye?” 

Asra just looks at him, gentle, reaches out a hand to his cheek. 

  
They tiptoe to kiss him one more time, soft, quick, although Julian leans into it, craving more. 

When they part, Asra turns and starts walking back towards the sea. Julian watches them as they enter the water, enchanted. 

Then, as if waking up from a dream, he calls for them.   
  
“Wait! What about the bracelet!” 

Asra just turns over their shoulder, grinning at Julian.   
  
“Thirty percent!”   
  
Before Julian can ask more questions, they dive into the water, disappearing with a silver glimmer.   
  
Just like that, Julian knows the answer to his previous question.   
  


This isn’t goodbye. Not yet. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [shane madej voice] fuck you, goatman! 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Feel free to let me know what you think in the comments or reach me @:  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/sunsetyoongi)  
> [cc](https://curiouscat.me/sunriseyoongi)  
> [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4OY5ocftwS0tU1TnXy4KgB)


End file.
